Mad World (PC)
by BirdCannotFly
Summary: PewdieCry Future AU: The world is being controlled by the government more than it should be. Felix is a successful detective living in Florida. When he gets handed a case on killing/terrorism being committed by traitors to make the world better, he finds himself confused. Will he turn his back on the new world order or work to fight against it?


Pewds

**D**o you ever wonder what happened to the world you thought you knew? Because I do. All the time. From noon to midnight and vice versa. I'm more than unwilling to admit that I do, because that would be considered "treason". I could be killed for thinking so. So, I try to replace those thoughts with what I do best. My job. I'm a detective for the area of Florida in America. Why is that important, do you wonder? Well, it has to do with my oncoming story I dare to tell. The story is long, it can be rough, loving, saddening, sadistic and any more words you can think of to describe. It has it's ups and downs, mostly downs. So, please venture into the life of Felix Kjellberg with your seatbelt on and locked, for things will get pretty bumpy.

**M**y slumber was interrupted by possibly the most annoying alarm clock made in history at 7 o'clock in the morning. The same as every weekday, but today was Monday. Rubbing my eyes of leftover sleep, I knocked the screeching device onto the floor where I felt it belonged, although it still went on. Growling, I reached behind my dresser and unplugged the damn contraption. This was actually an everyday ritual. After stretching my muscles and hearing a satisfactory pop in numerous ones, I slid out of bed.

Not too soon after, the shower was running and I was hopping in. I cleaned my body and my hair before begrudgingly leaving the steaming warmth. I dressed accordingly like every morning; a white button up top, black trousers, a red tie (tied in a double Windsor knot), and a black overcoat. I brushed back my almost untamable blonde hair and noted my pale blue eyes, dilated and bloodshot. Bags hung under said eyes. I rubbed them with the balls of my hands and left the mirror and reflection behind. The memory of the last time I actually slept soundly continued to elude me.

Driving across town takes longer than one initially expects. Of course, the Investigative Bureau of the Florida Coast would be so far from my place of residence. I arrived there by 8:30. I showed the woman at the front desk my ID and she let me in, like every morning. Entering the lobby, a few of my coworkers sat at their desks like salted slugs. I dropped my briefcase onto my desk and slid into my rolling chair. Would I have a case to work today? I hoped so.

Mr. Chair has kept me from working on cases and has mainly been giving me paperwork to do. I wasn't sure why. I was fairly good at my job. Some of the cases I had solved had made me notorious around the city. I was usually the last person my boss turned to when they no longer had any leads to a case, and I would easily solve it. Honestly, I'm not trying to boast. It's true.

"Felix? Can you come into my office please?" Mr. Chair said from his door. I got up and walked back, trying my hardest not to notice the onlookers. As I stepped into his office, he closed the door behind me. Gesturing for me to sit in the chair across from his desk, I did. "I have a case for you." Excitement bubbled in my stomach. I hadn't been on the field in weeks and it was my favorite part of being a detective. "It's a pretty serious case. I'm sure you've heard of the assassination of Ambassador Valen. You need to find the assassin. We have reason to suspect that it's a man, not working alone. As you already know, Valen was assassinated at the banquet of National Prize." I nodded along with what he was saying. Mr. Chair pulled out a manila folder from a desk drawer and flopped it down in front of me. There were photos inside. They showed the assassination of Ambassador Valen. Whoever it was that killed the man, they looked skilled. A bullet right between the eyes. Mr. Chair began to speak a again. "As you can tell by the bullet wound, they were obviously adept enough to hit right at a fatal point. The bullet that was found during the autopsy belonged to a _hand _gun. The shooter was no where in sight. A woman said she saw someone running out a side door that blended into the wall. She only got a flash of him, but she said it was a man. He was supposedly on the back balcony where no one could notice him. Whoever it was that used a hand gun to pull this off is possibly the best shooter I've ever heard of. There's not a single shooter in this division that could make a shot like that, not even you." I breathed in a gasp of air. This assassin sounded like a real hard-ass, even for me. Again, not boasting. "Even so, I believe this may be the most challenging case yet. So, I thought, why not give my most challenging case to my best detective?" He nodded to me and I listened. "What do you say?"

I took no time to think about it.

"Yes, of course. I'll find the assassin as soon as possible." I smirked and stood to shake hands with Mr. Chair.

"We're counting on you, Felix." He smiled, clapped me on the back and lead me to the door.

"Where should I start?" Mr. Chair thought for a moment.

"The crime scene, I suppose." I nodded and went to my desk to pack up my briefcase.

"Felix." A French voice said behind me. I jumped slightly and turned to see Stephano. "You going on a case?"

I nodded excitedly. Stephano was one of my best friends in the division. He also tagged along with me on many of my cases. He never really did much, he was mostly only there for moral support.

"Want to come along, as always?" I asked and smiled knowingly. He smiled back and put his hands on my shoulders.

"What I wouldn't do to see Florida's finest kicking some ass." We laughed and headed out.

We drove down to the crime scene, which was now a blocked off political theater. Stephano and I showed our badges to the guards who stood by the door. They let us through and we were in.

"Where should we start? This place is huge." Stephano commented, his French accent bouncing off the walls. The roof was bowl shaped and a large chandelier hung from it. The walls were gold and everything was gold colored for the exception of the red velvet seats that lined down the whole floor. They faced a stage that was blocked off with more caution tape

"Hopefully some place with better acoustics…" I rolled my eyes and slipped on some latex gloves and gestured for Stephano to do the same. Remembering Mr. Chair mentioning the balcony, I supposed that was where the most evidence would be. I climbed the side stairs that lead up to the balcony. There were a few seats up there. Mr. Chair never said anything about anyone sitting up here. No matter how skilled the assassin was, there was no way he could kill Valen with people up here and get away unscathed.

I placed myself in the middle of the balcony and looked head on the stage. I imagined myself shooting someone on the stage.

"Stephano!" I yelled from above. He was walking around the isles, trying to see if there was anything worth finding. His head snapped up.

"Turn down the lights like there was something on the stage, then tell me if you can see me from up here!"

"Okay!" He jogged on over to the light switch backstage and turned down the lights back in the audience, and turned on the spotlights up by the stage. Stephano came back out. I pulled my jacket closer to my body, assuming the assassin was sporting in all black. "Just barely! If I didn't know you were up there, I probably wouldn't notice." He yelled back and I nodded. The space from the balcony and where Valen was sitting was pretty far for someone using a handgun and hitting right in the middle of their forehead. My hand slid over the slick railing, thumb moving across the underside of the wood. Something brushed under my thumb, catching my attention. Kneeling down to look at the underside, there was a white square taped there. My eyebrows furrowed. What was this?

I pulled at the tape. It came off easily. The paper was folded enough to fit under the railing. I unfolded the paper to reveal… a symbol? It was a half slip of paper with a circle drawn in black. Inside the circle was a simple two dots and a line underneath them. Almost like a face.

I smelled the paper and got a whiff of cologne and permanent marker fumes. Could I get some DNA off of it? Maybe figure out what cologne this was? I took out a plastic bag from my coat pocket and sealed the paper in it, which was now evidence. I was about to leave the balcony when I remembered the blended in door. The one the assassin had supposedly exited from.

An easy find with the door knob sticking out of the wall. I opened the door which lead to the roof. There was flat roofing around the sides of the dome. I looked around the roof and found nothing. How could have the assassin have escaped off of a roof so high above the ground? After some searching, I found a ladder that lead down the side of the building, reaching the ground of a back alleyway.

"Stephano!" I called from the balcony again. He looked up. I waved him up and went back out onto the roof. My friend followed suit. I pointed to the ladder that hung off down the side of the building.

"You think he went this way?" I nodded.

"There's no other way off this building besides taking the swan dive and there's no way he'd survive it. A good shooter, yeah. Invincible? Hardly." Stephano nodded. I stepped forward, towards the ladder.

"Woah, you're going down there?" He asked, surprised. I rolled my eyes at him as I lowered myself down onto one of the steps.

"Well, yeah. Maybe there's evidence down here." Stephano scoffed. So, I climbed down the supposedly never ending ladder. Finally my feet touched the moist, cement below. I looked around. Nothing. Just an empty alleyway. A dirty, empty alleyway at that.

"Anything?" Stephano called from above. I looked up, shielding my eyes with my hand.

"No…" I sounded disappointed, mostly because I was. After telling Stephano I'd meet him around the front, I did. As I did, I heard a loud horn blow through the speakers that lined the streets. Fear churned my stomach. I knew what those sirens meant. Everyone did. An execution was taking place in this area. I tried not to let the obvious terror I felt show on my face as I turned towards Stephano. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"We should go." He said as relief flooded through my system. I nodded and turned to my car. "Felix? I meant go to the execution." Stephano sounded like he was confused that I turned to my car. Anytime there was an execution, I would not go. Sometimes the people I was with would force me to go, and those were the times that gave me nightmares. I rubbed my face. There was no way out of this, was there?

"Yeah, I know. I thought we would drive there instead of walking." Stephano chuckled and shook his head.

"Let's walk. It's not far." I nodded, my muscles stiff. We walked to the execution stand. I wondered who it was now. What if I knew them? What if it was a family member? Or a close friend? My stomach acid turned over nervously. "Felix, you're fidgeting. Why?" Stephano acted as if it was normal to see people be killed.

"Just… excited." The lie left a bitter taste in my mouth, though I knew it would satisfy him.

"Oh, I know. I haven't been to a good execution in ages." He laughed lightly and clapped my back. I winced. How did these people think it was okay to kill people like this? To keep the population down? Amusement? Whatever it was, I didn't like it. Though no one could know that. Or it would me being beheaded on a stage in front of hundreds. A glass incased carriage came rolling down the desolate street with men in uniform walking beside it.

What I'd heard, was that the inside was opaque. The person inside of it could see through but no one from the outside could see in.

Who was unfortunate enough to be inside that carriage? We all waited quietly as the carriage pulled up to the stand. A door slid open on the side. One of the officers reached inside and began to pull out whoever it was. It was a girl. She wore a flowing white dress with no shoes. That was the uniform they made the women wear while men wore white tee-shirts and drawstring pants. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized who it was. Marzia Bisognin. She was one of my best friends. We had actually talked secretly about how the world was out of control. She must have been caught. And, what made me feel even worse, is that she never turned me in. She could have even gotten off death row if she mentioned me. But she didn't. Oh, Marzia…

"What a shame. Such a beautiful girl for being a _traitor._" Stephan hissed next to me.

"Yeah…" I mumbled dryly. Marzia was lead up to the stage and set in the middle. Her arms bound behind her back and tears running down her face. Tears of my own welled in my ducts. Her eyes searched desperately for someone she knew in the crowd. They landed on me, big and beautifully brown. A sob hiccupped from her pink, pursed lips. Seeing this happen made me almost break down and cry for her.

"_I'm sorry…" _Marzia mouthed to me. I smiled sadly and nodded. _"You'll be okay, Felix." _A tear began to roll down my face but I was quick to swipe it away.

"On the stand today, we bring you Marzia Bisognin; charged for treason in the first degree." A man in a white uniform came up to the stage with a Dirk. A Dirk was a modern aged sword, but much like a lazer that could pierce almost anything. It glowed a dangerous blue as he brought it out. I knew what would happen next. I didn't want to watch, oh no. Not at all. But I couldn't _not _watch. Pretty much like an invisible force keeping my eyes on Marzia's gorgeous face. My heart beat so fast I thought it would stop. The Dirk was brought backwards and swung down. It sliced through her neck like butter, blood splattering all over the stage and the executer. Her body fell to the floor, twitching occasionally and red liquid pouring from her neck. Crimson stained the otherwise perfect white dress.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as her head was held up by the executor. Bile made it's way up my throat, burning along the way. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to beat out this bullshit system. This was no way to run a world.

"Wow!" Stephano screamed. He actually hit my shoulder and pointed to the stage as if I hadn't just seen what happened.

"I see." I grumbled.

"What's up with you? That was amazing!" He yelled enthusiastically. I didn't want to be around him. Not now. I didn't want to be around anyone right now.

"I'm going home. Not feeling well." I made it just out of the crowd when I felt someone grab my arm.

"What do you mean? Felix, come on." Stephano said with a condescending glare.

"I caught something over the weekend. Tell Mr. Chair I'll be back at work tomorrow." I said and basically ran for my car. Yeah, Stephano rode with me. He could take a cab back for all I cared.

Once I made it home, I dropped my stuff by the door. I meant to go to my bedroom. I was tired and could really use a nap. On my way there, I shed my jacket and tie. My hands worked at the top few buttons on my shirt, leaving them open. Somewhere along the lines, my legs gave out. My back hit the wall of my hallway as I slid down to the floor. Stomach churning, my eyes shot wide open. Scrambling off the wooden floor, I slipped and slid to the bathroom and retched what was in my stomach into my toilet bowl. Once I was done puking, I slumped against the bathtub.

Marzia was gone. She was beheaded right before my eyes. My hands ran through my hair, forcing it to stick up everywhere. Tears leaked from my eyes and I didn't stop them. I laid there and cried for the loss and memory of Marzia Bisognin.

**M**y day started more sluggish than usual. Most likely because I slept for fifteen hours straight. And now, on my way to work after drinking three cups of coffee and decided my eyes had seemed less red than when I woke up. My dreams were plagued with Marzia dying over and over again. I never woke up once, so that was all I saw for fifteen hours. Today was going to be rough. So will tomorrow. Everyday, knowing I saw my best friend get killed in front of me and that I was supposed to have enjoyed the show, will hurt.

I knew Stephano would be up my ass about leaving yesterday. Mr. Chair would be less likely to. He wasn't there. He didn't see me run away from Marzia's execution with almost bile leaking from my mouth. Hopefully Stephano didn't notice me almost falling apart as I left.

Stephano waited near my desk as I came into work. I wanted to groan childishly and walk the other way. How could I deal with him beating me up with stupid questions I couldn't give an answer to?

"Felix." His voice was stern and chastising, like a dog who just chewed his favorite slipper.

"Hey. What's up, bro?" I winced. "Bro" was not an adult and serious term. I used it sometimes on Marzia, as sad as that sounded.

"Well, uh, 'bro' I think we need to talk about yesterday." I left my bag at my desk and made my way to the kitchenette. More coffee was my goal, and Stephano was making it harder.

"That was nothing. I wasn't feeling well so I went home. No more, no less." I reached for the hot pot of coffee for my mug. Stephano took it after me and filled his up.

"No. That's a lie. You were fine earlier that day. I noticed you. I watched how you reacted, your mannerisms, expressions. At the mention of the execution, you completely shut down." I turned away from him to get the creamer from the fridge. As I pulled open the door, it slammed shut again. A dark skinned, French hand held it closed.

"What do you want me to say? That I enjoy seeing people get killed? Oh, yeah! What a blast?!" I said angrily, tugging the door open again and taking the creamer. The same hand slipped it from my hand.

"Don't say that. Don't be like _them._" Stephano mumbled. I knew who _they_ were. The "traitors". The ones who are wanted and go missing and are killed every day for having their own thoughts and opinions.

"Listen, okay. Cry me a damn river. I don't need your French shit today. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not in a good mood." I wrenched the creamer away from him and poured it into my steaming cup. Stephano was trying what little patience I had. After putting the creamer back, I went for the sugar in the cupboard. He pulled me back and forced me to look at him.

"You knew her." He whispered to me.

"Who?" I said, pushing him away at arms distance. I tried to sound convincing and that I knew nothing about what he was talking about.

"Her. The girl who was executed yesterday." I shook my head back and forth while mumbling "no". "Was she your girlfriend? Did you come up with conspiracies together? I bet it was painful to see her beheaded right in front of you." Stephano wasn't acting normal. I pushed him off, sending him hitting the wall on the other side.

"Leave me alone." I dumped out the coffee and left Stephano with his mouth hanging open in the kitchenette. I hadn't even been at the bureau for ten minutes and I already wanted out.

After dropping the slip of paper with the symbol on it off at the evidence lab, I went to my desk to do some research on the symbol. I could find some stuff on the symbol if it meant anything, or I could find absolutely nothing to help.

So as it turns out, there _is _absolutely nothing on the internet fitting the description of a circle with two dots and a straight line underneath them. It's no surprise, honestly. I don't really have much else to go on. Who ever killed Valen, he was good at covering the tracks he didn't want to leave. Did he want me to find the note? Is it even from him? There is a large chance that this symbol has nothing to do with the assassin and a small chance it does. It had no clues and nothing to tie to the killing. So, basically, I have nothing. If only there was a new development…

"Turn the tv on! Now!" Mr. Chair came bashing into the office, complaining about turning on the television. Someone clicked it on to reveal the news station. Fire and smoke overtook the whole screen while a woman in the background talked.

"_There was a breach in security this morning around eight AM in the National Prize HQ. Ever since, the whole place was on high alert, stopping any suspicious people. A security guard who's barely alive as I speak told officers he stopped three people sporting dark clothing. Two of the suspects wore hoods and scarves to cover their faces, while one wore a mask. And I quote, 'It was a face, but it had no expression as it stared deeply into my soul'. When the security guard demanded identification, they showed none. Except for the man in the mask, no one spoke. When he spoke, he said 'My name is Cryaotic. But you can call me Cry'. After that, the whole building went up and flames. The team of terrorists escaped and have not been seen since." _A woman spoke over the chaotic noise in the background. Ambulances rushed people out of the building. Some ran while breathing through shirts and fabrics to filter out the smoke. A chill rushed down my back at the word "Cry". He sounded so ominous. Next, they showed a sketch of the man wearing the mask. I almost gasped audibly. It looked exactly like the note I found at the crime scene. So, the person who blew up the National Prize HQ in Georgia has the same handy-work as the one who killed Ambassador Valen. Now, that gave me a lot more to work with. Mr. Chair watched the television intently. He seemed more pissed off than worried.

"Mr. Chair. I think I have some information to share with you on the case." I mumbled to him.

"Felix, look what they're doing! Look at what they're doing to our perfect society!" I wanted to roll my eyes. Society can never be perfect, whether anyone knows that or not.

"It has to do with that, you see." That got his attention. He rose his eyebrow and brought us to his office. "I have reason to think that the assassination and the terrorism tie together somehow. Like, they were committed both by that Cry person."

"Oh, well. That's interesting. What makes you think so?" I explained the note and mask to him. "It appears this way, doesn't it?" Before I saw the sketch of the mask that kept the mans identity a secret from prying eyes, I was going to give up on the note. At first, it held no relevance. Now, it seemed to me Cry was more powerful than we had initially expected. Powerful, cunning, quick, fearless. All the things I wasn't. No, I won't feel envy for a such a horrible man. He means harm… yes. Cry wants to do harm. I needed to stop doubting the enemy's intentions.

I left my boss's office and returned to my desk. About to get back to researching, my fingers hovered over the keys of my laptop. But what was I supposed to search? You'd think learning the terrorists name he went by would unlock a few possibilities. It didn't seem likely, but why not try? I typed in "Cry" and nothing useful. Wait, that wasn't the full name, was it? It was longer, like an extension of "Cry". Ah, I remembered.

Next, I typed in Cryaotic. My hopes were shot. Nothing even related to Cryaotic came up in the database. Who was this guy? Did he just crawl out of the depths of traitors? Well, strictly speaking, Cry could be anyone. I'd never actually seen him. He could be my neighbor. Anyone, really. Maybe if the security guard who was the only one who had spoken to Cry could give me information, I could get something else on him. But, sadly, he was on his way to the hospital. If I waited for week or so, he could be in better condition. And maybe, I can only hope for another development in a week. Cry was obviously aiming for something. I knew the bombing wouldn't be the last I saw of Cryaotic. I could only hope to hear of him again.


End file.
